Intimate Violence
by NightingaleLost
Summary: It was all for that moment they shared...all for that one, small, painful moment.


Damien had always had a bit of an anger problem.

Pip knew _that_ better than anyone else.

As the Son of Satan, you'd expect Damien to have a temper. After all, he was a demon. And obviously Pip knew this, so right from the start he was prepared, and aware. But it never did stop it from hurting.

Damien could keep his anger hidden, oh yes he could. every little thing that made him angry was locked away, hidden in the dark recesses of his black Heart. but eventually, like always, it came out and exploded. And it _had_ to explode on something. Or some_one_.

So he took it out on Pip. Because he was Damien's friend, because he was there, because he always took it. Because he always forgave.

Pip's subsequent injuries were easy to pass off; lots of people beat him up weekly, and no one really cared. Damien got mad about this, that people hurt the British blond, and that Pip always took that too. Sometimes, Pip would get a second beating, for not fighting back against the first one.

But Damien wasn't all that bad. When the anger was hidden away, he was a nice guy. He was a little arrogant and pushy, but he was alright. Pip and him would talk about a lot of things whenever they were alone; love, death, religion, TV shows, people and promises were only a tiny aspect of their long list. Damien liked these conversations, they distracted him from his anger, and Pip liked having someone to talk to and who would actually listen. A lot of nights were spent under the stars, gazing upwards from the tops of houses they had climbed onto secretly, talking in low voices as they hosted their good-natured arguments.

Damien never did talk much around strangers, but he never kept any thought from Pip, no matter how small. And it made Pip feel ever so special. Like he mattered.

And then Damien's anger exploded and brought Pip down again.

Pip tried. He really did, and sometimes he was lucky; soothing words and some calming touches, and maybe Damien's anger would dissipate and leave. Of course, this only happened _sometimes_.

Damien, in his mind, never really _meant_ to hurt Pip. He didn't _want_ to. It just..happened. The rage exploded and Pip just happened to be there. It was something he couldn't control. And he always apologized afterwards.

He never meant it to go this far.

A feeling of almost shock ran through him as he looked down at the crumpled figure on the floor, labored breathing lingering heavily in his ears, the scent of blood strong in the air. Did he really do that? Why?

Pip lay sprawled on the unforgiving ground, panting for breath, tingles of cold running through him. He wished he could say he was used to the pain, but he wasn't. It hurt so badly, so deep inside. Blood seeped from his flesh where Damien's claws had torn at him, bruises spread from where the demon's fists had landed on him.

What had caused Damien's outburst this time? Neither of them could remember. All there had been was violence and pain. Pip's eyes were glazed, lids half-shut as unseen demons ravaged his thoughts. He'd have nightmares later. Sometimes, Damien's attacks weren't just on the body.

Damien knelt down next to Pip, studying him carefully. Silently. There was nothing he could say this time, he couldn't think of anything. He'd never gone this far before.

Pip wheezed roughly, and his eyes slowly, wearily, flickered upwards to look at Damien. His hand twitched. He wanted Damien to hold it, but he was too tired to speak.

The dark-haired demon saw, and understood; he slipped from his knees to his bottom, one hand reaching out to grasp Pip's feeling the slick red liquid on the skin. He didn't say anything for a moment, then,

"I don't mean it, Pip." Damien said calmly, eyes fixed on the cloudy blue ones of the blond. He repeated it softly. "I don't mean it."

Pip's mouth opened but nothing came out, and the tip of his pink tongue could be seen in his pants and wheezes. He forgave him, he always did, and he always would. He could see the light of sincerity in Damien's eyes whenever this happened, and he always forgave the demon. Pip was fully aware of the almost certain fact that Damien was faking, using him only as an outlet for his anger by the didn't care. He'd rather delude himself some more and not chance losing those precious whispered rooftop conversations; those never seemed fake to him.

Damien looked at him some more, his free hand reaching out to smooth back a bloodied lock from the blond's face, to wipe the trickle of blood from red lips. "Tell me what to do, Pip. What do you want me to do?"

Words traveled up from his heart but stopped somewhere in his throat; Pip struggled for more breath to speak, to talk with. A gasp sounded from his mouth. "H...hold me...please."

The last 'please' drew a tiny, sardonic smile from the demon's face and he quickly complied. Strong hands defied their nature and gently wrapped around him, drawing the young boy up and close to his body, cradling him tenderly. He could fix him, he knew, but that would come in a bit. As horrible they were, Damien never felt as close to Pip as he did in these moments. They were so close; his hair tickled the flushed skin of Pip's cheeks. He never had the strength to do this otherwise.

Pip hissed slightly as he was moved but settled into the curve of Damien's body, a soundless gasp escaping as he came into touch with the other's high body heat. It was so intimate to him, no one else had ever held him besides Damien in his life, and only in these moments. It was an embrace only the two of them would ever share. It felt so painfully good. Pip never had the courage to ask for this otherwise.

Pip's hand trembled, shook, and raised the necessary three inches to touch Damien's cheek, his half-lidded eyes cloudy but focused. Damien's smile widened just the smallest bit. He was forgiven; he always was but it never dimmed the pleasure, and if he could admit it relief, he got when he got it all over again. Once he fixed him, they could go up their rooftop and lay down close, to stare up at the bright, bright stars and talk again.

Pip smiled as well, a quavery turn of the lips, mouth opening once more.

"Fix...m-me, please...?"

The demon's smile softened, the points of sharp canines visible, but only barely. Maybe next time he could restrain himself. Calm himself down and leave Pip with less scars and nightmares. Maybe 'next time' would never happen again. It was an impossible thought, and deep inside neither wanted to happen. Their next intimacy waited, the feeling they got from holding each other beckoned with tempting claws.

As long as that happened, everything would be alright. Damien's hand tightened on Pip's and his eyes gazed down at blue with indescribable emotion.

"Always, Pip. Always."

* * *

**A/N: **I was feelin' angsty. Yup. And bored. Yup.


End file.
